


So This is Christmas

by jesileigh



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Angst, Christmas Angst, Gen, Holiday, Holiday Angst, Spec
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:21:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21921655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jesileigh/pseuds/jesileigh
Summary: “Christmas was your dad’s favorite,” Felicity would explain. “He had gone through so much pain and suffering, but when it was Christmastime? He was so full of hope and joy. He loved being with his family and his friends, giving gifts, watching cheesy movies, throwing parties--all of it. That’s why we put up a tree every year and watch movies and drink cocoa together on Christmas. Because your dad would have been so excited to celebrate it with you.”
Relationships: Oliver Queen/Felicity Smoak
Comments: 20
Kudos: 113





	So This is Christmas

Every year from the time she’s old enough to understand, Mia asks the same question;

“Mom, why do we put up a tree and do the whole Christmas thing when we’re Jewish?” 

The first few years, Felicity would smile wistfully at her young daughter and hold out her arms. Mia would eagerly climb into her embrace and melt against her as the fireplace crackled behind them, her blue eyes sparkling along with the lights on the tree. 

“Christmas was your dad’s  _ favorite _ ,” Felicity would explain. “He had gone through so much pain and suffering, but when it was Christmastime? He was so full of hope and joy. He loved being with his family and his friends, giving gifts, watching cheesy movies, throwing parties--all of it. That’s why we put up a tree every year and watch movies and drink cocoa together on Christmas. Because your dad would have been so excited to celebrate it with you.”

For a time, the explanation placates her curious and stubborn daughter. But as she gets older and starts to develop her teenage ways, she huffs and rolls her eyes when her mom pulls out the decoration boxes and refuses to help. Still, Felicity continues to hang each ornament with the love and care that Oliver would have used. Smiling at the snowmen with their red and green scarves, still etched with the names Oliver and Thea from years ago. 

It breaks her heart, if she’s being honest, to see the way her daughter has begun rejecting anything to do with her father. Felicity understands the pain she must be feeling--after all, her experience with an absent father was quite personal. The difference was that she’d spent all of Mia’s life telling her just how much her dad loved her and would have given anything to be here for her. 

The year Mia turns seventeen she glares at Felicity as she sets up the tree, her face set with disdain and disgust. 

“He’s not coming back, you know,” Mia says under her breath, her eyes fixed on the menorah on their kitchen counter. It’s a few days before Christmas and several past this year’s Hanukkah, but Felicity hasn’t quite gotten around to packing away those decorations yet. She falters at the sound of her daughter’s voice, the ornament in her hand falling to the wood floor and bouncing once before it cracks into tiny shards of glass. 

“Mia,” Felicity breathes out a warning. A plea for understanding. 

“You do this every single year, mom. Like you’re waiting for him to just appear at the door and pretend like nothing happened. He  _ left us _ , remember? He’s not coming back to celebrate this stupid holiday just because you put up that ugly tree and watch his stupid movies.”

“Mia--” her voice wavers this time, but her daughter doesn’t notice or doesn’t care. Either way she shakes her head and continues. 

“You’ve wasted your life waiting for him! You could have had so much more but instead you’re hiding away in this cabin and pretending like he cared enough to come back but he didn’t care--he  _ left _ . He left and he isn’t coming back and you need to--”

“ _ Enough! _ ” Felicity shouts across the room, making both of them jump. “You have no idea what you’re talking about--” she says on a sob, holding the ornament in her hand to her chest. 

“Whatever,” Mia says flippantly, turning on her heel to walk away. 

“Don’t--don’t you walk away from me right now. Don’t you dare,” Felicity warns her, stepping closer. The shattered ornament crunches beneath her slippers but she ignores it. Mia pauses, despite the fact that both of them know there’s nothing physical Felicity could do to keep her there. She waits while her mother crosses the room to the opposite side of the counter, the tears on her face causing a pang of guilt to settle deep within her stomach.

“Mom, I didn’t--”

“I know,” Felicity interrupts. “I know you don’t understand. I know you don’t remember him. And I know--” her voice breaks again and she has to take a breath before she continues. “I know he isn’t coming back. It’s been 17 years, Mia, and I’m not a stupid person. Quite the opposite, in fact.” Mia’s cheeks flush and she looks at the countertop in embarrassment. 

“I’m sorry, mom,” Mia whispers, her voice soft and sincere. “I shouldn’t have--”

“I know,” Felicity assures her. “But do you know why I really do this every year?” Mia looks up and shakes her head gently, her eyes wandering to the tree in the living room. “It’s not for him. It’s not about hoping he’ll come home to celebrate with us--not really. Not anymore. It’s for me. And for you. So we can feel his presence. So we can remember who he was and how much he loved us.” 

Felicity makes her way around the counter and opens her arms to Mia, who wastes no time in sinking into her mother’s embrace, just as she always had years ago. 

“We can be angry and sad and feel hurt and still love him, Mia,” Felicity tells her, pressing a kiss to her head. Mia realizes she’s still holding the ornament from before and turns to look at it, her fingers running along the hat and scarf of a hand-painted snowman. “I know what it feels like to not know your dad. To wonder and want and wish for him. But I also know that your dad would be here in an instant if he could be. And he would have baked cookies with you and built a snowman in the yard. Then he would have tucked you in with a story and hot cocoa and kissed you goodnight so he could give you the most magical Christmas morning, every single year. Because that’s who he was. He was a good man and an even better father. And I know you have to take my word for it, but I would hope you trust me enough to know that I’m telling the truth.” 

Mia nods, her own eyes full of tears, and she gently takes the snowman ornament from her mom and traces her dad’s name on the bottom. 

“Do you...do you think I could help you finish the tree?” she asks meekly. Felicity offers her a small smile and tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. She nods as she wipes away Mia’s tears with her thumb.

“Absolutely,” she tells her. 

“And maybe we could watch Die Hard and drink cocoa after we’re done? It was dad’s favorite Christmas movie, right?” 

“The jury is still out on whether or not it actually counts as a Christmas movie, but yes--we’ll count it. For your dad,” Felicity agrees with a wink. 

Mia smiles back and holds the ornament out to admire it once more before she makes her way to the tree and hangs it gently next to her aunt Thea’s. Her mother appears by her side a moment later and pulls two more snowmen from a box,one wears a purple scarf and has her name painted on the bottom, the other wears a lighter shade of green and has Mia’s name. She hands over Mia’s and the two of them hang their own ornaments alongside the other two. 

Felicity’s arm slips around Mia and pulls her in close as they admire their handywork and Mia lays her head on her mother’s shoulder.

“Merry Christmas, mom,” she whispers.

“Merry Christmas, baby,” Felicity replies.


End file.
